Maya POV
One of the positive aspects of our living together is definitely finding breakfast ready every morning. And I'm not talking about a simple breakfast, the kind you can prepare in 5 minutes with whatever you can find, no... yours are breakfasts that make you want to stick to the kitchen chair and never get up again. Coming from me, used to throwing some stuff in the blender and hoping something drinkable would come out, that's a huge compliment. Your French toast seems to corrupt me enough to make me ignore the phone, or at least it does until the fourth ring.
"Yes, Bishop..."
Your gaze already frowns at me for answering this call, but you know me and you know I wouldn't have resisted.
"Okay, tell him I'll be there in an hour at the latest"
I hang up the phone call and in that same instant, I hear you throw the frying pan on the sink, with a gesture of clear disapproval.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, it's just..." you say, taking yourself back for that little outburst. You bring your hands to your temples, squinting your eyes, and looking at you I read on your face all the difficulties of this last period, how much frustration you have accumulated, without being able to find an outlet.
"Hey, you don't have to apologize. The commander is at the station and wants to talk to me about the designation of the new battalion chief. I couldn't say no", I reply, as I approach and embrace you from behind.
"I know, it's just... it's just we've had opposite shifts the last few weeks. It seems like a life we can't spend some time together... argh, I feel so foolish to be mad about this!"
As you say these words to me, I hear in your voice every inch of the distance between us that we still have to make go away. You moved in with me, and yet I feel like I've seen you even less than before, actually.
"Hey, what if I asked you to come with me?"
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, I won't be long, okay?"
"Okay... so maybe on the way I'll convince you to let me try out the fire pole."
You throw your arms around my neck while you say it, glad you don't have to be home alone waiting for me.
"Oh, you know that's off limits! That's great, now I'll have in mind for the rest of the day the image of you on that pole... God, Carina, how can you excite me with so little!"
"For anything, Commander, 19 is always at your disposal, don't hesitate to ask. See you soon!"
The expulsion of Dixon from upper floors finally made it possible for me to stop having to resort to a good dose of plagues every time the commander visits the station. I have to admit it was hard: the only good thing he did was to give me the job I had been trying so hard to prove I deserved for a long time.
Becoming captain for me was like winning Olympic gold... not because of the celebration, or because it was a life-long dream since I was a child, but because it was a goal I had set myself, it was achievable and every working day was just a training to get ready for the final sprint. Then... well, then things changed. You came along, and you turned my world upside down. By the way, maybe I should come and see where you are hiding.
Carina POV
"Well Miller, if you really want to cook pasta come Dio comanda, this is the right cooking time. Capito?"
As Dean tastes the spaghetti he had cooked, he looks at me puzzled. In fact, in his opinion, it took at least twice time for it to be ready. He seems to understand, however, that my suggestion is for good reason.
"Ah Miller, how many times must I remind you: never get caught cooking pasta in front of Carina!" As soon as I hear your voice, I turn to you, with a look that's forcibly indignant.
"Well, it's not my fault you lack the basics!Mia madre mi ha insegnato a cucinare la pasta quando avevo 8 anni!"
You stand between me and him, and you slowly start pushing me out of the kitchen.
"Hey, hey, your Italian part is taking control of you, Carina. Don't worry, Miller, I'll take her away, so you can finish cooking in peace", reassure him, not missing the opportunity to make fun of me. I know how much you love to hear me speak Italian, especially on special private occasions.
"Are you leaving already? Why don't you stop for lunch?" I hear his question now that we're on the flight of stairs.
"I'd say I have other plans for my super sexy Italian girlfriend... say hello to the others!"
We leave the firehouse and as we get into the car, my mind is already thinking about what we can do in the afternoon. The realist me knows it's going to be hard to convince you to do anything that involves leaving the house or even just wearing clothes, but I also know I have great persuasiveness and I'd love to be outdoors for a while. I was thinking like a walk in the park. Besides, you're also a nature lover, it won't be that hard to convince you.
Driiiiin driiiiiin driiiiin
No...no more phones, no more interruptions...I'm already ready to tell you to ignore it when I realize it's my phone that's ringing. I look at who's calling.
"It's the hospital"... jeez!
Okay, now your expression looks like a cartoon who makes no attempt to hide his sadness.
"Hello, this is Dr. De Luca"
We arrive at an intersection and as we wait for the traffic light to turn green, you wave your hand to let me know if you need to turn right to take me to the hospital. Resigned, I can only nod in agreement while Helm on the other end of the phone continues to give me a report on the patient's condition.
Maya POV
I stop when we get to the entrance of the hospital and you are already ready to go down, when you turn towards me and, taking my face in your hands, you kiss me.
I'm petrified. The intensity you were able to put on my lips in such a fleeting moment is blocking me. Of course, there's the classic dork in the car behind me ready to ruin the moment, blowing the horn and letting me know I have to get back on track. As I take off the handbrake, I take a moment to watch you again as you disappear beyond the sliding doors of the hospital.
You text me after a few hours, telling me you're done and asking me to come pick you up. I had stopped by Andy's house, not wanting to be alone. And that allows me to get to you in less time than expected. I find parking almost immediately, so I take the opportunity to go down and wait on one of the benches in front of the entrance. It has become evening, and there is a slight breeze, which dilutes the heat of the day. The colors of the sunset have almost faded by now, but you can still see some faint hues in the distance. I hate to think we could have enjoyed a wonderful day if it weren't for our jobs being so unpredictable.
"Ahhh, I hate having a job where unforeseen events are highly likely to occur!"
You sit, or rather you let yourself fall exhausted on the bench next to me.
"Hey how did it go?" I bid you farewell, leaving a tender kiss on your cheek.
"Well... that is, the mother and baby are doing just fine. But it was long... a birth!" I can't hold back a half laugh at your inadvertent pun.
"I promise to be proactive about any suggestions you want to make to me for the evening though... because I assume you have something in mind for tonight or do you?"
"You're not wrong. I thought I'd take you out to dinner at that Italian restaurant you always talk me about."
Your eyes light up as you just face my head, stretched out on the bench in a position that conveys all your tiredness.
"But they also do the home delivery service, so I thought we could take advantage of that and eat comfortably at home. Plus, we'll save all the time you need to get ready to go out."
"Are you saying I'm slow?" respond, pretending offended.
"I didn't say it"... I reply, trying to hide the fact that that's what I was thinking.
"Okay, this time I'll fly over Captain Bishop. Come on, let's go!"
You stand up and you wave to me to take your hand, but as soon as I get up and we start walking, I hear someone calling you.
"Hi, Carina..."
You're blocking, and I almost risk bumping you. I see your gaze froze, your eyes visibly incredulous. And it is not a positive wonder that I see reflected in them.
I turn to the figure who said your name. My gaze rises slowly, from those shoes, elegant with a heel just a couple of centimeters high, up, along those tight jeans that define absolutely toned legs, to then get to a simple blouse, made more attractive by the jacket, with sleeves that reach the level of the elbows. But it's when I get to that look, that smile, that I understand.
"Arizona..."
And it's a moment. The second I realize that what I'm looking at is Arizona Robbins, the woman who populated my girlfriend's dreams. And, well, I feel screwed.
